A Lady in His Shield
by Soonerwxgirl
Summary: Only one King can bring France out of the ashes of war-Francis, from the all but extinct House of Valois. To unite his country and move forward into a new age, he must honor the decades old betrothal to the young Queen of Scotland, Mary, safely hidden in the mountains. Little did Francis know his choice for her escort to court might set in motion events that could change nations.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I don't own Reign, but the story is generally mine. Inspired somewhat by the fantastic 'Queen of Camelot' by Nancy McKenzie. Also, history has been altered for this story. This is definitely AU!

_A bow-shot from her bower-eaves; He rode between the barley-sheaves;_

_The sun came dazzingly thro' the leaves; and flam'd upon the brazed greaves of bold Sir Lancelot_

_A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd; to a lady in his shield; that sparkled on the yellow field; beside remote Shalott_

_Alfred Lord Tennyson "The Lady of Shalott"_

* * *

The flames of destruction covered France in a layer of darkness. Between the English, and the Holy Roman Empire, France had been a battleground ripe for the conquest for years. After decades of bloodshed, France won the ultimate battle, but at a terrible cost. Nobles were displaced all across Europe. The Royal family was in shambles, and a majority of the French countryside had been reduced to rubble, scorched earth reflecting the sadness within the French people.

One man rose from the ashes. One man declared he would rebuild a new France, a France that would shine brighter than any diamond.

"To Francis!" A man's voice cried, while he slammed his tankard of ale against the large wooden table. Echoes of 'To Francis' rose from around their makeshift meeting hall. It was the only room left intact in Chateau de Blois.

Francis rose, smiling, from his seat near the head of the table. His golden curls were the only outward reflection of his age, making him appear younger than his true years. A simple circlet of gold crowned his head, the only adornment marking him as King he would wear, albeit grudgingly. The real indication of his might and strength was his father's sword, hanging imperiously from the worn leather scabbard at this waist.

"Thank you, brother." He replied, tipping his tankard toward the initiator of the cheer. Though they shared a father and a few of his features, the brother's were easy to tell apart. The golden curls versus the disheveled brown locks were one main characterizing distinction. The other was their eyes. Francis had always been jealous of his brother's green eyes, not for any reason other than it made his features stand out amongst a crowd. "Sebastian, it is my turn to congratulate you. The work that has commenced on restoring the Chateau is splendid. Let us hope enough will be complete for my new brides arrival!"

Another round of 'Here, Here!' and 'God Bless King Francis!' weaved through the broken halls. Raising a hand to silence his lords, Francis turned again towards his brother. "Bash, I have a great task for you." Turning to address the entirety of his congregation, Francis continued. "As you all know, France needs an ally as we begin rebuilding this great country, and I need a wife." Murmurings of ascents floated by Bash's ears as he listened to his brother. "You may remember that years ago, before Charles V made his last attempt to conquer our beautiful France, my beloved parents, may God keep their souls, betrothed me to the young Mary, future Queen of Scotland."

Sebastian knew the story, as did all those who were left in court. Mary had been brought to France as a child to be raised in the French Court. But a few short months after her arrival, she was heralded away into the mountains as Charles V and his vast armies attempted their last effort to conquer France, and eventually England. Sebastian knew she had been kept safe outside Andorra La Vella, snugly situated in the Pyrenees mountains, and close enough to Spain to be free from the invasive threat of the Holy Roman Emperor.

"I have decided it is time we honor that treaty!" A deep hum filled the room as the men banged their tankards on the tables. Sebastian felt the vibration of the hum within him, as if this new beginning for France was awakening a new version of himself. He felt his own mug join in the ruckus, enjoying the revelry with his comrades. Once the noise levels began to recede, Francis continued. "Now, we all know Lady Mary is hidden safely away near the Spanish border. There is only one man I would entrust to bring her safely from within the mountains down to French court. Brother!"

Sebastian had been half-heartedly listening to Francis' words, mainly soaking in the sights and sounds of victory, and hope, when he heard his brother call for him.

"Brother, I am entrusting you to safely escort my future bride from her hideaway in the mountains." None of the men surrounding Sebastian were surprised. He was the country's fastest rider, one of it's most skilled swordsman, and right hand man of the King. If anyone would be chosen for such a task, it was he.

Francis made his way over to Sebastian, grasping his shoulder firmly, tankards of ale clanking around them.

"I thank you for the honor, brother." Sebastian acknowledged Francis heartily, inclining his head as was appropriate. He was touched by his brother's trust in him.

"There is no one I trust more, Bash. See that Lady Mary arrives here safely." Francis' sincerity bore through Sebastian. They were brother's, well half-brother's, who had each others backs since they were children. Even now, on the eve of complete peace, they were still taking care of each other.

"You know I will, my King." Francis laughed exorbitantly, his voice mingling with the laughter and mirth of the other men in the hall.

"Oh, enough of the formalities, Bash. Let us enjoy this evening. For the first time in ages, it is a quiet night."

They sat quietly for a few moments, watching the shadows of their men dance amongst the Chateau ruins. As he looked around their once beautiful home, he knew it needed much work before it would be fit for a Lady, let alone a Queen.

"When am I to escort Lady Mary?" He asked quietly, breaking the silence. He watched Francis sit quietly, unsure if his brother heard him, or if he was deep in thought himself.

"Honestly, I want you to leave tomorrow. It is a good week's ride to the mountains, and I have already sent a letter ahead so you will be expected, and Lady Mary will be informed. I would like if you spent some time with her and her ladies. She was left in the best of care with the Lord and Lady Carme, but she may be wary of court life."

"Court life? There has been no court in years. I am not sure what I might help her understand?"

"You see, that is just it, Bash. She will help us rebuild our home, our country, even our court. The wars barely touched the mountain villages. She may have no idea what awaits her here." Sadness weaved through Francis' words, for both brother's mourned the toll war had taken on their country and way of life.

"And I am to teach her?" Bash inquired, still unsure of his brother's intentions.

"Not so much teach, but guide her. Answer her questions, be the Duke I know is in there." At these words, Bash chuckled. The weight that was beginning to mount on his shoulders felt briefly lighter. This was a great task indeed, preparing the future Queen to what awaits her in the countryside.

"I will do my best."

"As you always do, brother. Please take Claude and Luke with you, for security purposes. The mountains should be safe, but we have not ventured that far south in awhile."

Sebastian nodded, bidding good night to his King and brother. He sought out his two fellow riders, explaining to them the task ahead. They were elated to be accompanying him to bring their future Queen to court.

As the rest of the men relished the evening's festivities, Bash headed to the small area that served as his room. Consisting of three walls and a roof, he was at least protected by the elements. Before undressing for the night, he scanned the halls with their broken walls. Scaffolding braced regions where he had directed repairs to begin. It would be a long process, but the Chateau would be returned to it's former glory. In his opinion, it would be even grander than before, showing the world that France did not crumble under pressure. Before saying good night to his brother, Francis had finally gave him a time-frame for guiding the Lady Mary. He wanted Bash and his men to spend a month with them in the mountain village. Sebastian hoped the repairs he was overseeing would continue in that time, preparing a least some rooms to be fit for women.

Women.

Throughout the years of war, Sebastian, Francis and their men traveled as a group of warriors. They had no time for a woman's companionship, unless the towns in which they stopped briefly had not been pillaged. Even then, whatever short-term satisfaction they gained did not fill the deeper need for love and family. Shaking his head, Bash visualized the scene that would unfold when they all arrived back at court. There would be Lady Mary, already destined for King Francis, and then her two, or maybe even four ladies, who would be catching the eyes of at least a hundred or more men. _I will worry about that later, _Bash thought.

Removing his shirt, and settling down on his plat of blankets, Bash eagerly closed his eyes, praying sleep would come quickly. Tomorrow would begin a new adventure, one that would likely change his brother's life, and the life of France. And if he was lucky, it might just change his life as well.

* * *

It took Bash and his men roughly a week, just as Francis had told him, to reach the small village of Andorra La Vella, where Lady Mary was residing within the home of the Lord and Lady Carme. He had been amazed at how untouched by war the mountain villages had been. Normal day-to-day activities were ongoing, as if there had been no war at all. The earth was not scorched, the homes were intact, and the few people they met on the road were friendly. Despite the need for extra security, not knowing what they might find this far south, Bash was pleased with the promise the land held. The promise that one day, the whole of France might be like this again.

After their brief introduction's, Sebastian was informed Lady Mary and her ladies were enjoying the pleasant afternoon in the meadow.

"It is probably best if we may freshen up before meeting the Lady Queen." Sebastian offered, realizing he and his men were covered in dirt from their travels, and also smelled quite disgustingly of horse sweat.

"Yes, of course, let my man show you to your rooms. You all are most welcome guests in our home." Lord Carme spoke kindly, gesturing to a man of his livery to escort Sebastian, Claude, and Luke to their rooms. Not too many minutes later, all three men emerged from their rooms, ready to make their introductions and meet their future Queen.

Indeed, it was a pleasant afternoon. The sun hid between the clouds now and then, casting faint shadows on the grass as it did. Bash had assured Lord Carme they would need no assistance finding the Lady Mary, as long as he pointed them in the right direction. Turning the corner away from the home's garden, he could see the circle of ladies seated beneath the shade of an oak tree, right on the edge of a small meadow. He turned, motioning to Claude and Luke to look up ahead. Francis had not seen Mary since he was a child, so he had offered no physical description for Sebastian. They approached slowly, Bash's vision carefully inspecting each lady as he approached.

The ladies caught sight of the approaching men, standing slowly but acting unafraid. Bash bowed slightly, Claude and Luke following suit. "Ladies, I am Sebastian, Duke of Poitiers. This is Claude, Marquis de la Chambre, and Luke, the Viscount of Lanques. We have come to escort the Lady Mary and her ladies to the Chateau de Blois, your future home, and the home of the French court."

"Yes, sir Duke, we received the letter from our King that you would be arriving soon." Bash noticed the woman towards the back of the circle stepped forward, her eyes boring into his own. "I am Lady Mary, Queen of Scotland." Sebastian gaped at her, for she was the most beautiful of the ladies in the group. Her raven hair hung down over her shoulders, shining like black ink beneath the sun's rays. Her dress, not ornate as he was expecting for her station, was red, a stark contrast to her skin, which though pale in comparison to his own, was darkened by time spent outdoors. He realized he was being impolite, staring at her as was, but he could not turn his head away. He barely noticed the other four ladies around Mary, for she held his complete and undivided attention.

Bash had also forgotten his two men flanked him on either side, until Claude nudged his shoulder as he stood awestruck by the Lady Mary. He cleared his throat in embarrassment, bowing respectfully in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up his cheeks. The sniggers around Lady Mary assured him he had not been successful in covering the awe he felt at witnessing Mary's beauty and grace first hand. She shushed her ladies politely, returning her fierce gaze back to him. From deep within, a primal urge to protect her, to love her, began to bubble. Bash felt the unease in his stomach, the flutter of his heart, and the clamminess of his hands. He sensed the confused stares of Claude and Luke from behind him, their eyes worriedly following his motions.

As he stepped forward, Mary extended her hand in greeting. Bash was unaccustomed to such brazen forwardness by one of noble birth, but he accepted her hand graciously. A sense of calm flowed through him at her touch, and yet his hand burned. She held his gaze unwaveringly, their gazes locked as if they were the only two people in the small meadow. A small gasp of surprised escaped Mary's lips, and she withdrew her hand suddenly. Flustered, she took a step back, her eyes rapidly glancing everywhere but at him.

Regaining his composure, Sebastian bowed again, his formality as the King's half-brother reasserted itself. "My Lady, we are honored to finally meet you. We have come to escort to Chateau de Blois as I said, and we will see to it you arrive safely to your new home."

"To be Francis' wife? Yes, I am aware. I will graciously respect the treaty my parents arranged all those years ago, though marrying a man I hardly know is rather strange."

"Mary!" Sebastian saw one of the lady's behind Mary sway as she hissed the warning to her Queen.

"I understand, Your Grace. Please have no fear, for your gracious King is a gracious man as well." He could sense the approving smiles of Claude and Luke behind him, hoping he erased his earlier mishap. He offered his arm to Mary. "May we escort you back to the house for dinner?"

Mary nodded, fitting her hand around his arm. Just the mere touch from this woman he only just met sent goosebumps traveling along his arm.

He knew, in that moment, that she would forever change his life. The woman that was destined to marry his brother, and be Queen, would rule his country, and his heart. The hardest thing he would now do is spend a month with her, getting to know her, guiding her in the ways of their newly developing court, only to take her back to be his brother's wife.

_Damn my life, _he thought, _for I will be damned to love her._


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for your interest in this story, and the great reviews! I am excited to lead you through this AU version of Reign.

Author's Note: I don't own Reign, but the story is generally mine. Inspired somewhat by the fantastic 'Queen of Camelot' by Nancy McKenzie. Also, history has been altered for this story. This is definitely AU!

* * *

Dinner with the Lord and Lady Carme was anything but relaxing for Sebastian. The Master of the House had many queries regarding the happenings in and around the heart of France, or what was left of the great country. The pain of recounting the carnage, the burnt earth, and the heartache was difficult for him. He had watched helplessly as men died before his eyes, as homes were burned, as lives were irrevocably altered. Sometimes, in the dark and quiet of night, he could still hear their screams; some were screams of pain, others, anger and frustration. Sebastian was not sure how much of France's dark times he needed to divulge to Mary, since she was going to be so crucial in leading France forward instead of living in the past. It would be hard for him to tell the stories, and he imagined it would be even harder for her to hear. Most women detested the talk of war, and having done nothing more than speak greetings with Mary, Sebastian decided to err on the side of caution.

"I am sorry if this talk of war bores you, Lady Mary." Sebastian began, wiping his hands on the towel in his lap as he finished his dinner. She raised her eyebrows in response, tilting her head ever so slightly, and Bash realized he had assumed incorrectly.

"Quite the contrary, my dear Duke. If I am to help guide this country towards better years, I must know all that has passed, for only then can I make the best decisions moving forward." The conviction in Mary's voice rang strong, and Sebastian, once again, gazed in awe at the woman before him. He had been but a young boy when the war started, but he vividly remembered his mother always changing the conversation if the topic was brought up. _'Women have no use for war,' _she would say. But that sentiment did not hold true for Mary.

"Well, then, if that is truly what you want, then I will tell you everything." Sebastian replied earnestly, watching perplexedly as Mary's brows furrowed further together in disagreement.

"And why would it not be what I want?" Silence surrounded the pair, as all eyes in the room were divided between Sebastian and Mary. He understood very quickly his apparent ill-advised choice of words, again, and was rapidly formulating how to correct his mishap. His colleagues offered no assistance, so Bash kept his eyes on his plate, praying the appropriate reply would come to him. Dinner had begun to adjourn, and by the scowls on Luke and Claude's faces, it would be best if he remained silent.

When he first met Mary in the meadow that morning, his whole outlook on life changed. The immediate draw he felt towards her was hard for Sebastian to grasp. He had never felt that strong of an emotion in a long time, and never towards a woman. And now, after his present debacle, he worried her view of him would completely change. He had to make the situation right with Mary, for he should have never presumed she was like any other woman. She had clouded his thoughts, and made his vision foggy. He shook his head as chairs scraped imposingly against the wooden floors. He raised his eyes briefly as she retreated, and her eyes were on him, not as much in anger as in curiosity. But her lips pursed, and her chin raised a bit higher as she moved towards the hall, away from him.

Sebastian had instinctively stood as Mary and her ladies removed themselves from the modest dining hall. As the fog that clutched his mind cleared, he realized he alone was left at the table, staring stupidly at the opposite wall. He vividly remembered the questioning glare Mary leveled on him. It was a significantly different gaze then he had seen from her earlier in the day. But he also remembered the way she pursed her lips, as if her thoughts towards him confused her. Even pouted in anger, those lips had transfixed him.

"Bash, are you coming?" Luke asked from the doorway.

"Oh, yes, quite sorry for the delay." Sebastian mumbled, knocking over his chair in clumsiness. He tugged on his doublet, having changed from his filthy riding clothes earlier, in an attempt to right both himself and his thoughts. Eventually, he fell easily into step behind Luke, following his swagger until he turned into what appeared to be a library. Claude already sat in a chair by the fire. Though it was summer, evenings in the mountains leaned towards the chilly side, and Sebastian was thankful for a bit of heat.

"What happened today, General?" Claude broke the silence, using Bash's military nick-name, standing to hand a tankard of ale to him.

"Nothing." Bash replied quickly, turning away from his two men and eying the ale.

"Oh come now, Bash." Luke interjected. "It was love at first sight." He chuckled, and Claude joined in the laughter. Bash was extremely thankful for the fire, the warmth hiding the blush on his cheeks. He did not find their banter humorous, and it took every ounce of his willpower to not drench his friends in ale.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, I misspoke, that is all." Bash spit out harshly, wishing for a few minutes alone to clear his head.

"Not just dinner, Bash, but this morning when we first met Lady Mary. It was as if you and her were the only ones in the meadow." Luke replied, half teasingly, half seriously.

Bash could not argue with him, and refused to turn and face the men. Her beauty had swept him away, and her grace was humbling. And then that night, at dinner, her fervent attitude towards understanding her future country amazed him.

"We are here to safely escort Lady Mary and her ladies back to the Chateau, let us not forget our task." His voice commanded attention, his time leading Francis' armies behind his brother giving him that ability.

"Yes, but you cannot forget why." Claude urged quietly from his chair, having seated himself again.

"She is to be our Queen, and my brother's wife, yes I remember." Bash sighed, tiring quickly of the path of the conversation.

"No, she is to be the wife of our King." Luke added, stressing the word 'King'. Bash knew what he meant was that relatives were sometimes forgotten in the world of politics. If his actions or words reflected poorly on France, it would not matter if he was the King's brother or not.

"Come, Luke, let us let him be for a while. We will see you in the morning, Sebastian." Claude uttered sleepily, pulling Luke reluctantly along with him.

Sebastian nodded, turning back towards the empty chairs in front of the fire. He sat rather ungentlemanly, plopping himself down and throwing his head back in defeat. 'Lord, what have I gotten myself in to now.' He whispered to the empty library. 'Maybe you can help?' Sebastian asked to his tankard of ale, still untouched.

"Drinking your sorrows away usually only makes the situation worse." The light, airy, female voice replied, and Sebastian's heart skipped a beat. Turning, Mary appeared as if out of nowhere in the library, her figure dancing in and out of the shadows created by the firelight.

"Oh forgive me, Lady Mary, I would not intrude on your personal time." Bash spluttered, realizing how strange and awkward his words sounded. Technically, she had interrupted his time in the library, not the other way around.

"It is I who intruded on you, and apparently deep in thought." Mary quirked on eyebrow at him, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Actually, Duke, I meant to intrude. I wanted to apologize for the severity of my words at dinner. I have a bad habit of letting my words get away from me."

"Oh no, my Lady, it should be me apologizing. I should never have presumed to know what you do and do not want to be told." Sebastian rose from his chair as he spoke, recovering his senses enough to remember proper etiquette.

"Well," Mary laughed, "it seems we are both at fault then. Shall we start again? Hello, I am Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland." Mary held out her hand again, just as she did that morning. Sebastian felt the flutter inside him once more.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mary Stuart. I am Sebastian, Duke of Poitiers." Sebastian accepted her hand, feeling the same electrifying warmth as he did that morning. The expression on Mary's face changed, her eyes gazing at their joined hands. She pulled her hand away slowly, holding her hand as if it hurt. She had a similar reaction that morning, gasping as their hands touched.

"I understand now my defensiveness at dinner. You unnerve me so. Why is that?" Mary mumbled softly, as if to herself. Sebastian was not sure she meant him to hear.

"If it makes you feel better, I feel the same way." Bash replied quietly himself, not wanting to add he did not mind the way she made him feel. It was a delicious warmth that spread through him, but not because of the ale, or the fireplace behind him.

"Maybe it will ease my mind if I got to know you?" Mary glanced up at him then, her eyes seeking his openly.

"You are in luck, my Lady, for part of my task is to catch you up to speed on things happening around the countryside, and help you decide how best to rebuild our court." Smiling, Bash enjoyed the small smile that graced her face as well.

"Wonderful! I knew we should be great friends." Mary reached out for his hand again, holding it tightly as she smiled widely. He much preferred her beautiful smile to the scorn he witnessed a short while earlier.

"Well then, if we are to be friends, please call me Sebastian, or even Bash. I prefer those over my pretentious title."

"Of course, Bash. Now shall we talk more in the morning? I do not wish to intrude on your time any longer."

"Most assuredly." He replied, still holding her hand. Lifting her hand, he placed a simple kiss on her knuckles, nothing more than befit his future Queen. "And it is not an intrusion, I promise." He watched as she blushed slightly, curtseying before she turned and glided out of the library.

This would be his toughest task yet. He watched after her retreating figure long after she left. Those feelings he felt that morning were still there, under the surface, simmering slowly. His heart had ached when he thought he had displeased her earlier, but now, knowing he had caused her emotions to go crazy, relieved him. 'Unnerved' was the word she used. She unnerved him too. '_I have watched men die. I have killed men with my bare hands. And this one woman makes me speechless,'_ he thought, collapsing back against his earlier abandoned chair, and downing his ale in one gulp.

* * *

Over the first week after they arrived in Andorra La Vella, he spent many of his waking hours in discussion with Mary and several of her ladies. He learned Lola was the one with the dark, wavy hair. She joined most every conversation, and often times offered valuable input. The other lady was a tiny wisp of a thing with blonde hair so light she might have been a nymph from one of the childhood stories his mother would tell him. Her name was Aylee, and though she never said much, Sebastian could see her keen eyes missed nothing of her surroundings.

Absent from their daily talked were Mary's other two ladies, another blonde named Greer, and a darker-haired sprite named Kenna. Bash's two men had found themselves preoccupied most days with these two ladies, and neither minded at all.

"I think your Marquis and Viscount have their hands full, Bash." Mary chuckled, pointing towards Claude and Luke who were escorting Greer and Kenna around the gardens.

"I would be more worried about Greer and Kenna. With these years of fighting and war, most of our men have not seen a true noble woman in some time." Bash replied with a smirk. Mockingly, Mary gasped, flinging a hand towards her chest in indignation.

"Should I be concerned, then, about my virtue? Are you as unravished of attention as the Viscount and Marquis?" Mary inquired, a bit of coyness to her words.

"By no means, my Lady." Bash grinned, eying Mary carefully as she smiled, watching how her face lit up with mirth. He knew she would catch him staring, but he was too enamored to turn away. But then, he uttered more words without clearly thinking of their implications. "But I will let you know when I change my mind." With a wink, Bash turned on his heel and walked away.

He had almost counted to a hundred when he finally deciphered hurried footsteps approaching from behind. The gravel walked crunched noisily with Mary's restless footsteps.

"You speak your mind very freely, Sebastian." Mary tittered, walking quickly to catch up with Bash, the skirts of her gown rustling around her.

"Not one of my better traits, I am afraid. But I do not do it often." Sebastian cheekily responded.

"I can deduce, then, from the tone and content of this conversation that the court lacks a woman's touch." Mary paused, assessing Bash's face. "Or women at all."

"You would be correct, on both accounts. Many of the nobleman sent their families outside of France, while they stayed behind with my father, and subsequently Francis. Some men left with their families, yes, but only a few." Silence penetrated the air around them, as they slowed to a more leisurely pace through the garden.

"Where did they go?" Mary whispered.

"Well, many went to Spain, and Portugal. A few headed towards Italy, at the late Queen's bidding. A couple brave souls traveled to England. Mostly, they moved anywhere but east and the Holy Roman Empire."

"Should we summon them back to France?" Mary stated simply, eying Sebastian honestly, having forgotten the awkwardness of Sebastian's earlier words.

"That will be for you and Francis to decide, but yes, I think it is best. They were the original members of court, and I think it behoove us to try and encourage them to come back to France." Inwardly, Sebastian hoped his sentiments were those of Mary as well. He wanted his words to please her, considering he had said several words that had not.

"No, I think that is best. I will give it continued thought, though." Mary contemplated, not wanting to commit her mind to one single action just yet. The future of France depended on her, and it was crucial for her to make the most informed decision possible. "Will Francis really entertain my opinions? Most Kings do not listen to their wives."

"Francis is not like other Kings. When he entrusted me to escort you back to court, his instructions were that I prepare as best I could for court, and life at the Chateau, on the understanding that your opinions held great weight."

Mary nodded, her face passive. "Is he much like you?" She asked faintly.

Sebastian was surprised by the question. No one really cared that they shared a father, or if their were any other similarities between him and his brother.

"No one has asked me that before." Sebastian realized, wondering what Mary was thinking. "I think in most ways we are similar. Some might say I am more ruled by my emotions, whereas Francis thinks with his head, naturally a ruler. But, yes, we are alike in some ways. He is my brother after all."

"He is?" Mary questioned, eyes widening at the revelation. Sebastian was surprised, having assumed she knew.

"I am sorry. I thought you knew of our relationship. Yes, he is my half-brother."

"But you are the eldest?" Mary asked, stopping to turn and speak to Sebastian face-to-face. He nodded, an answer to her question. "Good. He would have looked up to his elder brother." Mary reached for his hand, holding it gently for a moment. A small tremor went through Sebastian at their touch, not following Mary's train of thought, but pleased that she was obviously pleased. "That is very good." She paused, her eyes holding his for a moment. "If he is anything like you then I shall manage." There was honesty and loyalty in her voice, and Sebastian could not help but smile.

"But you have only known me a week, my Lady. Who knows what dastardly deeds I have up my sleeve?" He winked at her, the second time that day and Mary laughed heartily in response.

"True, but do you know what I have up my sleeves?" Mary tried to wink back, blinking rapidly instead. Both laughed.

"No, but I think I am up to the challenge." Sebastian replied mischievously, knowing their conversation was teetering on the edge of appropriateness.

"Good. I hope you are."

_So am I,_ Sebastian thought, watching her figure sway as she started to walk ahead of him. _So am I._


End file.
